Closing his eyes Maltheil could feel the weakness in the energy around him. Waypoints were scattered all across the lands, but few knew where to look for them or had the ability to use them. A waypoint was a natural door, a means to access the other planes of existence. If one had the ability, they could travel through the waypoints to other planes. As a demon of great power, Maltheil could travel to the sixth plane, his home, if he so wished. But once there, he would not be able to return to the material plane. That is unless some powerful wizard was dumb enough to summon him. So he had no intention of returning home just yet. There was plenty of blood to spill first. He had another reason for opening the gate to the sixth plane.
Maltheil began to chant. Within moments the air before the rock wall began to swirl counter clockwise. Maltheil continued to chant, the beast’s long arms lifted before it, and moments later the swirling flashed to a black hole, a gate to his world. Beyond the dark breach black rocks jutted from a gray landscape, fire and smoke rising from the ground. Off in the distance you could see a castle of black towers built high on a jagged peak. It was Maltheil’s home, probably now overrun with lesser demons, something the beast would have to rectify once it returned to the burning plane. Maltheil turned its hands towards its chest, as if motioning for something to come, and just beyond the door several big shapes moved. Several minutes later clawed hands reached through the opening and Maltheil stepped back, its guttural voice still chanting, rising in volume as more forms shifted near the door. Then the demon clapped its hands and the door flashed brightly, receding quickly to reveal four smoking forms standing before the rock face, the door no longer there.
The four beasts were different in appearance, but each terrifying in shape and form. Two of the creatures looked very similar, both at least two heads taller than a large orc, but looked much bulkier as their bodies were so heavily muscled. The creatures had no fingers, just three thick digits, each one capped with claws that looked more like curved horns. Dense black fur covered their torso, but their arms and legs looked to be covered in scales. The creature’s heads, although slightly different, were large and dragon-like, with horns and fangs as big as its claws. Their mouths were so full of large teeth that they could not talk; they simply stood there, their eyes flickering with red and orange fire, steam drifting from their mouths as they breathed deeply.
The other two were smaller in stature, nearly human-like, with giant bat-like wings. Each creature had long sinewy arms and legs, every joint jutting with black spikes. Even their clawed hands had bony spikes sticking from their knuckles, capable of causing great damage. Their tails whipped around excitedly, spikes like knives protruding all over the appendage. They were hairless, with gray slimy skin, and their heads were human in shape, but with longer skulls, big white eyes, and teeth filled mouths twice as big as any man’s.
“Welcome my hordlings, it’s been far too long.”
They growled deeply in response, flexing their fingers, the long black claws clicking together in an ominous sound.
***
Jonas and Bearit followed Tulari through the woods for most of the day when they came to another road. Jonas stopped and pulled out his map.
“I think Tulari has turned us more west, and this road looks like it could be the main road to Lanard,” he said as he looked over the map.
“You think she is taking us to the capital?”
“Possibly.”
“Should we just take the road then?” Bearit asked.
“We go where she goes,” Jonas responded. As if on cue, Tulari emerged from the brush, shook her head in a follow me way, and disappeared again into the brush. “Looks like we are staying in the woods.”
They continued on for several hours before stopping briefly for dried rations and water. The forest was dense and in several spots they had to cut their way through. Jonas wasn’t worried about anyone following them. Normally he would be scouting ahead and behind, but with Tulari in the woods there was no need. She could cover their perimeter easy enough, and her nose and ears would pick up any threat. It was nearing dark when Tulari emerged from the brush. Found, she communicated, people, come. She had been leading them to someone.
***
Atticus led Tyril and Kylin along the edge of a small stream, the water long ago digging a rut through the stone around them. The clearing was open, the ground littered with huge stones blanketed with green grass. Giant trees surrounded them and even bigger rock faces peppered the clearing all around. They had decided to head to Lanard to warn them of the Tur’el betrayal. Once there they would need to devise a plan to defeat not only the approaching army, but Maltheil himself.
Korum was typically out scouting, but the big cat had come back to drink from the stream and walk with the group. They were nearing the forest edge when Korum, now at Atticus’s side, lifted his huge head, growling towards a rock face to their right.
Atticus spun in a blur, his arm reaching back and nocking an arrow, his bow at full draw. Standing at the edge of the rock face was Jonas, his bow in a similar position, his keen eye looking down his black arrow. Bearit walked into view, his powerful arms holding his battle axe, his worried expression looking from one archer to another. A deep growl matched Korums, and Tulari, at full size, stepped to Jonas’s other side, her huge shoulders at head height.
“What do we have here?” Atticus said, keeping his bow at full draw. He looked at Korum and the beast stopped growling, sitting on his haunches. Then he slowly lowered his bow.
Friend, Tulari said in Jonas’s mind. Jonas lowered his bow as well, looking over the group more closely. “I’m Jonas, this is my friend, Bearit, and my companion Tulari.”
A young bearded warrior, dressed in the armor and clothes of a Red Guard soldier, stood at the ready with his sword in hand, and next to him was a young girl, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, holding a crossbow at the ready. But the man with the bow drew Jonas’s interest the most. Next to him was a huge cat that looked just like the animals he had been forced to fight on the bridge. Bearit had said it was called a shadow cat. But this cat looked normal, untainted by Maltheil’s poison. The man was clearly a skilled archer. He had drawn and nocked the arrow nearly as fast as Jonas. He wore the clothes of a woodsman and carried a sword at his hip. He looked middle aged, but there was something about his eyes that suggested wisdom beyond those years.
“I am Atticus and this is Korum, my friend. Beside me is Tyril and Kylin,” Atticus said, being vague with their identities. “Tulari is a night wolf,” he said questioning, clearly wondering how Jonas could befriend such a beast. “I would like to hear this tale.”
Jonas was taken aback at that. How did he know Tulari’s name? And Tulari responded to him by making a shallow growl. It was what she did when she liked someone. But he didn’t voice his surprise, figuring he would have his answers soon enough. “And you have a shadow cat.”
Atticus smiled. “It seems we both have a tale to tell.”
“Tulari led me to you. I am hunting a great evil, and it seems that are destinies are somehow entwined.”
Atticus stopped smiling, suddenly more interested than before. “In that case, it will be dark soon. Let us camp here and talk. It seems we have much to discuss.”
The soft ground and water from the stream provided a perfect location for a camp. Atticus started to collect wood and stack it near the rock face and Jonas looked at him with concern. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“A fire would be nice, don’t you think?”
“I do, but it is not a good idea. We can go without.”
“Do not worry, friend Jonas. I will cast a shielding. I am a druid you see.”
Jonas had heard of druids, but never met one. They were very rare; in fact he was told there were no groves left east of the Tundrens, although he could not confirm that. “Tell me about this shielding.”
“To put it in words that are easy to understand I simply ask the forest to hide us. No enemy will see us, or smell the s
moke, or hear us. We will be completely shielded from them.”
“What if they walk into us?” Bearit asked, clearly interested.
“The earth will shift what they see and guide them around. It is impossible.”
“He did the same thing last night,” Tyril said, shrugging his shoulders as if he was unsure if it really had worked.
They set up camp and everyone laid out their rations, sharing their food and drinking water next to the warm fire. Tulari had shifted to her smaller size and lay between Jonas and Atticus, her big head touching the druid’s leg. Atticus noticed Jonas’s stare, who was not masking his surprise. Tulari never nuzzled next to anyone except for him. “It’s normal, Jonas. I am a druid. I have a natural affinity to all animals.” Korum, who was sprawled out on the other side of Atticus, purred deeply, confirming his statement. “Now, why don’t you tell me who you are? I sense magic all around you.”
Jonas gave the druid an abridged version, explaining how he was once a cavalier and how he was now Shyann’s Shadow Knight. The three new companions listened intently, very much interested in his story. After all, it was quite unbelievable.
“I have heard of you,” Tyril explained. He seemed to be in awe, appraising Jonas in a new light. “You fought with Kiln the swordsman and King Kromm against Malbeck.”
“I did.”
“I know of you as well,” Atticus said. “And Tulari was once your cavalier steed…that is fascinating. So, you were guided here by Shyann, through Tulari, to kill Maltheil?”
“I assume that is my goal.”
“And you found Bearit here, starving and desperate, and took him under your wing so to speak?”
“Yes, he was in need of help,” Jonas answered. Bearit said nothing, his dark eyes looking into the fire. “Now, who are you?”
Atticus laughed. “Well, I am Atticus Belthar. I am famous, just as you.”
“I have not heard of you,” Jonas said simply.
“I have,” Bearit said, looking up from the flickering flames. “My father used to tell me tales of Maltheil, the demon, when I was a kid. According to him the beast was slain by a wizard named Atticus Belthar.”
“Wizard!” Atticus laughed again. “They always get that wrong. I am no wizard, although I can wield power in a similar way.”
“But that would make you over two thousand years old,” Bearit reasoned.
“That’s the part I couldn’t believe,” Kylin said, speaking up for the first time. She had been so enthralled in Jonas’s story that she didn’t want to interrupt him with her many questions.
“Don’t ask him to prove it,” Tyril said. “It’s a bit strange when he turns into animals.”
Atticus waved him off. “I protect the forest around us, and in return she grants me power, which I use for many things…case in point, to keep me young and full of energy so that I may continue to be her guardian.”
Jonas leaned closer to the fire, putting his hands out to warm them. “Did you really kill the demon thousands of years ago?”
“Yes, and no,” Atticus said. “I was not alone. I had help from my grove as well as from the Tur’el king and his army.”
“Tybolt Oneck,” Kylin said, “my ancestor.”
“That’s correct. He was a great battle king, and together we were able to banish the beast to the nethers.”
“What are the nethers?” Tyril asked.
“Think of the nethers as the place between worlds. It is nothing…it is emptiness, a simple bridge to another plane. There, the beast could do no more harm. He was in limbo. If we had banished the demon to its own plane of existence, it’s possible that he would be summoned once again.”
“Then how was he summoned from the nethers?” Jonas asked.
“I am still trying to figure that out. I used the Rothar family blood to strengthen the spell, containing its power in a book. The book was to be protected by the Rothar royal family, the tomb of Maltheil located in the royal mausoleum.”
“Why use a book?” Bearit asked. He knew nothing of magic, and he was struggling to understand just what had happened.
“For a spell of that kind of power, I could not wield the magic myself…it would destroy me. The earth’s power was given to me, and to form a lock, I needed to weave the energy into something physical, a conduit so to speak. The words of power given to me by the Sanga, which is what we druids call the earth’s power, were used in the book to bind the demon to the nethers. The book acts at the key.”
“When you say Sanga, is that the same as what the elves call the Ru’ach?” Jonas asked, very much interested.
“No, it is not the same, but similar. Think of it this way. If the Ru’ach is an ocean, the Sanga is a large river. This river flows all around us, and is linked to the Ru’ach, just as a river is connected to an ocean.”
“So the stream of power is all the same?” Jonas asked.
Atticus nodded, and then shrugged his shoulders, like he was not quite sure. “I believe it is. Now,” he said, changing the subject, “let’s get back to the matter at hand.”
Tyril agreed, wanting to talk about something he could actually understand. “So someone stole the book, used it to open the tomb and free the demon?”
“That seems to be the case, however, only someone of great mental strength could do so,” Atticus added. “Anyone else would not be able to read the words of power, or control the demon once it was free.”
Kylin said nothing, her furtive gaze flicking to Tyril and back to the fire. Jonas noticed it. She seemed concerned.
“What are you hiding?” Jonas asked her.
She looked up and Atticus nodded to her to tell him. “My full name is Kylin Oneck, I am the Tur’el princess.”
Jonas was not privy to what had happened at Angar, and his expression showed it. “I thought you were to marry King Gyveel Rothar,” he said, remembering what Earl Magnar had told him.
Atticus sighed. There was a lot still to tell them. “It seems our story is not quite done,” he said. And then he told Jonas and Bearit about the betrayal, the Tur’el attack on Angar, and the death of the Rothar King, as well as the attack on Tyril and the Red Guard troops while bringing the princess back to camp.
“So your father, besides betraying the treaty, has left you alone with the enemy?” Jonas asked incredulously. He did not mean for it to sound so harsh, and when he heard the words leave his mouth he wished he hadn’t said them.
She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. But then she looked back at him, her eyes smoldering with fury. “I hate him,” she spat. “He has never cared for anything other than power. I do not know if he has left me for dead, and if he has, I do not care. His betrayal to me cannot hurt me, because I care nothing for him. All he cares about is gaining power so my brother can eventually wield it and expand the Tur’el kingdom.”
“Let me get this straight,” Jonas said, linking everything together. “As we sit at this fire, a Tur’el army, joined with Maltheil and the beast’s army of demon-spawn, are marching on Lanard. The demon is probably controlled by the Tur’el court wizard, although we still have no idea how the wizard was able to get a book that was locked away, protected by a spell that can only be thwarted by someone with Rothar blood. And,” he continued. “Maltheil will likely break the binding spell, and kill everyone and anyone in its path while creating an army of demon-spawn in the process.”
Despondent, Tyril looked up from the flames. “That sounds about right.”
“Don’t forget,” Atticus added, “that there must be a traitor at Lanard, someone who helped Carvathian get the book and replace it.”
“Is there anyone else with Rothar royal blood?”
Kylin looked at Tyril. The young warrior shook his head in frustration. “Yes, the king has a younger son, my friend, Prince Peron. But he had nothing to do with helping Carvathian.”
“Would you bet your life on it?” Jonas asked.
“I would,” Tyril said, his eyes hard. “Without hesitation.”
<
br /> Suddenly Atticus swayed a little, both of his hands coming to his head as he closed his eyes. Everyone looked at him, the movement strange and out of place.
“Are you well?” Jonas asked.
Then the druid’s eyes flew open. They were wide and alert. “The Sanga just warned me…something that doesn’t belong, is here, in the forest, and it is near.”
“Belong? You mean belong in the forest?” Kylin asked.
“No,” he said. He was now as serious as a general facing an enemy charge, his typical good humored flare gone. “Something that doesn’t belong on the material plane. Ready your weapons.”
Everyone stood and did so. “Won’t this shielding hide us?” Tyril asked, who was now holding his sword before him, his eyes scanning the darkness.
“The shielding will hide us, but if it’s a creature from the burning planes, then they, or it, will be able to see the shield. They will know magic is in use.”
They had built the fire against a big rock face, and they now stood against the stone, their backs protected, looking out into the darkness, the firelight reaching pitifully into the black night.
Then they saw them. Red burning eyes looked at them from the cover of night. Korum and Tulari, who was now full size, growled deeply, but they both stood beside their masters, unsure as to what they were facing.
Bearit gripped his mighty axe nervously. “Do they see us?”
“I don’t think so,” Atticus said. “But they sense the shield. They know something is here.”
The two sets of eyes were at least ten paces apart and much taller than a man. It wasn’t long before they found out why. They heard a crunching and snapping of brush as the two eyes moved towards them, red and orange fire flaring from them. With each pace, they got closer, and as they neared, the moon’s light slowly revealed what they were. Two massive muscle-bound forms stopped ten paces from them, each set of eyes staring directly at them, but seemingly not seeing them.
The Shadow Knight (A Shadow Knight Novel Book 1) Page 19
